On the Fly (Crimson Romance) (24 page)

She grinned. “Yeah, you did a nice job turning things around in that press conference. I can’t believe you admitted to paying it, though.”

“The most believable lies are half truths. I figured the world wouldn’t care whether or not I paid the debt if they thought it was a favor for Madden and not for you.”

“You really sold that best friend angle. It must have broken poor Reese’s heart.”

Carter laughed and shook his head. “He knows everything. And I trust him. He did pout for a week, but kicking my ass in go-carts seemed to make him feel better.”

Her smile finally broke free. The image of the two large men crammed into tiny go-carts, driving like their lives depended on it, was too much. “Well, sure.”

“Now … ” He pulled her to him and kissed the tip of her nose. “You go face the powers that be. You have one friend on the board, right? Gerard Butler?”

“Gerald. I’m sure he’d be pleased with the mix-up, though he’s got almost forty years on the actor. But yes. I think I’m the granddaughter he always wanted. He’s a nice man.”

“Okay,
Gerald
. My point is, there will be at least one person who doesn’t want to put you in the penalty box.”

“I guess.”

“There’s the irresistible optimism I love. I get to go face-off with Nealy. Honestly, I think I have more to fear.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re afraid of a delicate little woman?”

“Delicate?” He grinned. “I think you mean domineering, relentless, and nut-crushing.”

Jacey smiled. “She would be very flattered by that description.”

“You think she’s cute and harmless, but you don’t have to suffer through her practices.”

“The suffering got you a spot in the playoffs, right? What is it? Second seed?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiled and dropped a kiss on her lips before he headed for the locker room. Over his shoulder, he called, “Good luck! I’ll call you tonight.”

His retreating form offered one magnificent view. A good distraction for all of five seconds before her stomach sank again. Time to get it over with.

• • •

After almost nine months in Las Vegas, the ostentatious buildings lost their effect. It just went to show that anything could seem ordinary if you saw it every day. Not a single surface escaped being covered in shiny metal, polished marble, garish glitter, or neon lights. As Jacey headed for Mandalay Bay’s South Convention Center, she saw signs for the shark reef attraction. Scuba diving with some great whites sounded like a tamer way to spend her day than defending herself to a room full of land predators. At that moment she’d have taken sharp teeth over sharp tongues. But duty called.

She took the elevator to level three and found the Commanders Boardroom then did a mental eye-roll. It appeared that the rest of the owners had already arrived — an easy feat as they were all staying at the hotel. They noted her presence with vague nods and darty eyes. Strong coffee and sweet pastries scented the room. Under other circumstances, they’d have called her name. As it was, the idea of putting anything in her stomach made her nauseous. Looking around, she found one friendly face.

Gerald Butler, owner of an Original Six team, waved her over to an open seat at his left. Pushing eighty, he had more grace and sense than any other man in the room. At her first governor’s meeting, he’d been the only one to speak to her aside from the commissioner. He gave her a grandfatherly pat on the hand as she sat beside him.

“My dear, it’s good to see you again.”

His words should have put her at ease, but embarrassment burned in her chest. It didn’t matter what anyone else in the room thought of her, but Gerald was different. He didn’t dismiss her simply because she lacked the assumed proper genitalia. He had supported her managing choices vocally and treated her as an equal. Even though, in her heart, she didn’t feel like she’d done anything horrible, she felt like she’d let him down somehow.

“It’s nice to see you too. I wish the circumstances could be better … ”

“This is nonsense. The league never interfered in the personal lives of owners before. Your team is turning out great numbers in your first season running it. That’s what they should be paying attention to.”

Should be. But sex sells.

That was another argument she couldn’t use in her favor. The NHL was so worried about bad press, but her so-called scandal had garnered more attention for the sport than it’d seen in decades. People were talking about it even if they weren’t saying the nicest things. She wanted to argue that the league could thank her for all of the attention and exposure. If only making her case wouldn’t help them make theirs. Besides, she hadn’t
wanted
the scandal.

“I think we’re all here. Let’s call this meeting to order.” Commissioner Black sat at the head of the table and organized a stack of papers.

Everyone filed in. The only person not staring at her happened to be her one ally. She fought the urge to walk out and not look back. Gerald patted her forearm, and she took a steadying breath.

“Thank you all for coming. I know it’s not easy to make time in your schedule at the start of playoffs. The league has garnered some negative press lately, and while the claims are unsubstantiated, they’ve become enough of an issue that we need to address them posthaste.” The commissioner glanced at Jacey.

The room fell silent. Waited.

Seriously?

“I know I’ve had some unwarranted media attention. There’s one reporter looking to make a name for herself, and she’s twisted a few things she’s supposedly seen and heard. I’m just not sure what more I can do about it. I’ve refuted her claims at every turn.”

The owner of the Montreal Canadiens cleared his throat. “I think we need to be blunt and clear the air. I’m sorry if this seems indelicate, but Ms. Vaughn, are you involved romantically with Carter Phlynn?”

The question shouldn’t have had any effect. She’d heard it several dozen times in the last year. And she’d always been able to answer it without the slightest bit of guilt. Not anymore. The image of Carter’s earnest expression as he said he loved her stole her voice. It didn’t feel right, denying their relationship. It felt like a betrayal of what they had. But the lie was necessary for everyone’s sake. “Indelicate? I think insulting is a better word. And I find it a little ridiculous that we’re even talking about this.”

“All right, all right.” The commissioner held up his hands palms out, calling for peace. “Whether or not Ms. Vaughn is involved with Mr. Phlynn isn’t our focus — not exactly. In order to avoid issues like this in the future, I think we need to make a formal rule about owner-player relationships. Of course friendships are allowed, though I’d encourage owners to keep a professional distance. This rule would forbid intimate or romantic relationships between owners and players.”

“But sir, if the rule comes out right in the wake of this press maelstrom, it would be as good as admitting that I
was
in a relationship with Mr. Phlynn. It would also look like the press has more power over the NHL than the board does.”

The owner of the Toronto Maple Leafs murmured, “Are you sure your objection isn’t that you’d be embarrassed to be the reason for the rule?” It was under his breath but clearly meant for the room to hear. Including her.

Gerald had to have seen her tense up because he casually held onto her forearm just as she was about to stand. Jacey clenched her jaw and tried to control the muscle tremors from the effort it took to stay still. She took a moment to gather herself. No one spoke, so she must have visually broadcasted her intent to tirade.

“I understand most of you haven’t encountered a sole female owner before. Maybe it’s difficult for you to accept me. I’m here, nonetheless. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to apologize for that.”

The men glanced at her then away. Most looked at the table. A few pushed around their water glasses. None seemed comfortable with what she had to say, but they didn’t deny the validity of her words. Most likely, they were snickering inside and thinking,

Emotional woman
. And maybe so. But she was an emotional woman who stood up for herself.

“I didn’t know much about hockey politics in the beginning, but I learned a hell of a lot on the fly. I made some mistakes, but I also made a lot of good decisions. My team is second seed going into the playoffs because of choices
I
made. I deserve more respect than this.” It sounded defensive, and she hated that, but it needed to be said.

“Jacqueline, you’re right. You deserve the highest respect for what you’ve accomplished in one season, and from now on, you will have it. From all of us here and the rest of the league. However, this rule must be made. As I said, it’s not a reprimand to you. It’s to prevent other such occurrences. You do have a point about the timing, and I move to put this rule in effect at the beginning of the next season. I will even issue a statement when that happens and specify that the rule is not in reaction to you and Mr. Phlynn.”

She stared at the commissioner, numb. In one breath he’d commended her and laid down the law. An obvious question hung in the air. Jacey was grateful when she didn’t have to be the one to ask.

The Canadiens’ owner spoke up. “And what shall be the penalties for breaking this rule?”

The commissioner steepled his fingertips and touched them to his lips as he thought it over. “I would have to give a public statement condemning the relationship, and there would be fines.”

A simple statement, but the implications reached further. Public shaming could hurt a team. Losing fans, especially for a desert team that struggled to acquire an audience to begin with, could mean eventual disbandment. Her father had lost the Rockers due to loss of fans and the ticket sales they represented. Jacey tried to tamp down her anxiety. “Isn’t that a little excessive?”

“The idea is to dissuade anyone from breaking the rule. This is something we need to take seriously. It’s always been a bad idea to mix pleasure and business for very good reasons. This is for everyone’s benefit.”

The commissioner moved on, but Jacey didn’t hear. The implications of the rule hit her in growing waves. She could be with Carter … if she sold the team or traded him. Neither was an option.

Saturday, April 7th

Jacey paused at the top of the stairs. With one hand on the banister, she closed her eyes.
No other way. No other way.
One foot in front of the other, she forced herself toward the front door.

Madden guarded it, arms crossed over his chest. “This isn’t right. You don’t have to do this.”

He couldn’t know how much those words added to her inner torment. Part of her whispered the same thing, but she pushed it down. “I
do
. Madden, I know you love me. If you want to help, get out of the way and support me in this.”

“You’ve been seeing each other in secret for months now. And you’ve been
happy
. Jace, do you really want to — ”

“Of course I don’t want to stop seeing him! But I have to. The board made it very clear that any team with a romantically involved owner and player would be punished. Don’t you get it? If I keep taking chances, the board could ruin the
team
. We barely survived our first year here. If the Commissioner himself publicly berated Carter and me for having a relationship, we’d lose fan respect and then ticket sales. The team would be a joke. It could disband. I can’t let that happen.”

The regret and sadness in her brother’s face tore an even bigger hole in her heart. He opened his arms for a hug, but she stepped back and blinked rapidly to clear her gathering tears. “Rain check, okay? I can’t fall apart yet.”

Madden nodded and stepped out of the way. He looked tense, restrained, like he had to fight his instincts to comfort her. Gratitude washed through her so strongly she had to hold onto the door a beat before heading out. It felt so good knowing Madden would be there for her no matter what.

Gray clouds were rare in Las Vegas, but today they huddled low in the sky and blotted out the usual noon sun. It matched her mood. It also warded off exercise enthusiasts from the neighborhood trails. The alone time helped to steel her for what she had to do.

No other way.

Avoiding Carter on Friday had been surprisingly easy. It was a game night, so no time to talk. He’d gone out to celebrate the win afterward and left messages asking her to join or at least call back. She’d finally called in the morning and asked to come over and talk about the meeting. Though he agreed, his tone told her he knew her real motive.

Walking up the steps to his front door had never felt so intimidating. Before she could knock, Carter filled the entryway, his expression like the gathering storm. Dread weighed her down. Her limbs felt like lead, her chest impossibly tight. They stared at each other a moment before he gestured her in.

It took all her strength to cross the threshold. She felt like she didn’t deserve to be a guest here anymore. Not with what she was about to do.

“Carter — ”

“Don’t. Don’t finish that if you’re going to say you don’t think you can be with me.”

Her lips parted. She didn’t
want
to say that. His gaze was so intense it hurt, but no backing out now. Tears threatened, filled her eyes, so she looked at the foyer floor.

• • •

Carter felt a tremor running head to toe. His pulse raced as fast as the clock ticking down the last seconds of a game. He knew. He had known. Her text Thursday night had been the first clue:
Survived the meeting, exhausted. Talk later.
But he took it in stride because Friday’s game had loomed large — the last before the playoffs. After the win, he’d focused on celebrating with his team, but just before he’d fallen asleep, it struck him how wrong it was that she hadn’t called back.

The final piece had been her voice on the phone that morning. He’d gotten so good at reading her that the slightest nuances raised red flags. Frustration burned through him and caught fire. “Jacey. Whatever they said, how does it affect what we have now? We’re below the radar. It’s been working. Why can’t it stay that way?”